


What They Go Home Too

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Avengers Family, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Biblical Themes (Abrahamic Religions), EVERYONES BAD PARENTING, Homophobia, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Joseph Rogers is a dick, Multi, Not at the beginning though, Odin (Marvel)'s Bad Parenting, Panic Attacks, Phil Coulson is trying, Protective Steve Rogers, References to Depression, Sarah Rogers adopts strays, Self-Harm, Tags to be added, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, almost as much as Howard and Odin, eventually, explicit scenes of child abuse, steve is a pitcher because I am tired of the football trope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-10-19 09:18:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20654837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tony Stark, the resident rich-kid and quote unquote player. That’s all people like to think they know about him.Steven Rogers, the high school baseball pitcher and the son of a Baptist preacher with the moral compass to prove it He’s the one everyone wants to know more about.Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, the foster siblings glued to the hip as if they were siblings by blood. He’s the one who everyone knows almost everything about, while she’s the one everyone knows nothing about.Bruce Banner, antisocial science geek with severe anger issues. No one wants to know anything else about him.Thor Odinson, a Norwegian boarding student who loves traveling and American football. He may not get American slang, but he does try his best. He’s the one everyone thinks they know everything about.Six people, each with horrendously different lifestyles.Six people, who go home to something different, something unexpected.And lastly, six people, who all take part in peer counseling.





	1. Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where I’ll put trigger warnings for this and future chapters :). Please read these if you know you can be easily triggered, I’m not trying to hurt anyone. 
> 
> WARNINGS:
> 
> -Implied Depression  
-Implied Child abuse (blink and you’ll miss it)

“Mama, are you-“

Maria sighed, which was enough for Tony to stop mid-sentence. He may do everything in his power to piss off Howard on a daily basis (because apparently he had a death wish), but today was special. His Mama has come to see him off for school, which means she got out of bed, and therefore is now out of the house. 

Somehow knew this was a good omen, despite the fact that his worst nightmare is literally ten yards away.

“Bambino, you know I would let you go to college but you are too young. I want you to have a regular childhood, even if with... everything, it’s anything but.”

“Mama, I am fourte-“

“-And you were placed as a junior,” Maria cut in. “You should be enjoying life, not rushing through it. If your father would’ve had it his way, you would have been homeschooled all of your life and at MIT right now.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “The homeschooling doesn’t sound bad.”

“You need the social interaction,” She argued. “You haven’t been around people your own age since you were at that fundraising event a few years ago with Hope. Maybe she’ll be here and maybe that eccentric friend of hers.”

“I doubt it. Darcy probably wouldn’t step foot in,” Tony squinted at the name on the sign by the nearest building. “Shield Preparatory High School For The Specifically Gifted’. What is that even supposed to mean?”

The chauffeur cleared his throat. “Young master and mistress, you may want to wrap up the goodbyes. Students are heading inside and it is almost 8:45.”

Maria nodded. “Thank you, Earl,” Maria side hugged Tony. “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you in, Antonio?”

Tony groaned. “Mama I am, once again, fourteen-“

“-and yet you still call me mama.”

“You know what? I’m leaving, I can’t take this tyranny.” Tony grabbed his back pack and opened the car door. “See you after school?”

The question was filled with hope and Tony hated himself for it. Hope was for children in a situation where they don’t know what to do but to think things will get better. 

“Maybe.”

Maybe. That was better than ‘No’, but most probably meant he wouldn’t see her. 

Tony nodded, quickly saying a mixture of goodbyes and love you’s as he closed the car door.

He glanced at a paper in his hand that he got in the mail a few weeks ago, about his schedule and locker.

‘Locker 368, combination is 11 24 23’

Tony kept his head down, scanning the lockers before finally finding 368 by the science room.

He opened his locker and deposited some of the books he wouldn’t need until later, fortunately only having five classes today. 

Now, to find Physics. 

***

Physics was boring. The teacher handed out the books and Tony flipped through the pages knowing he learned almost all of that when he was eight.

He kept his head down, not trying to draw attention to himself, which worked, for the most part. 

Tony played with the idea of just ditching this place for the rest of the day, but the ‘maybe’ his mom gave him earlier was enough to see if she would pick him up... or if it would just be Earl, like usual.

He managed to find AP Calculus before the bell rang. It was taught by a woman named May Parker, who just gave them a work sheet to fill out about themselves. Mrs.Parker also spent the majority of class gushing over her toddler of a nephew.

Again, a very easy class.

Finding English was a little more difficult, since he had to go back to his locker to get a book he forgot, which just so happened to be on the opposite side of the school. Figures.

Tony knocked on Miss Hill’s door, and the woman in question opened it with a raised eyebrow.

“Mister Stark, I presume?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And you are late because?” She drawled.

Tony gripped the strap of his backpack tighter and refrained from saying something detention worthy. “I forgot one of the books and-“

“-Don’t let it happen again, Mister Stark. There is an empty desk in the back by Mister Barton.”

Tony felt heat rise to his face as he awkwardly shuffled to the back to the seat next to some -incredibly gorgeous- blonde guy.

“As I was saying before we were interrupted by Mister Stark,” Hill started. “The breakdown for your overall grade will rely heavily on group projects. You will be assigned to groups based on your schedules and how you perform on the first task I will be giving.”

“You will do an essay on a book of your choice,” She continued. “and attempt to explain the theme that can be taken away from it, and how it applies to the real world. It can be any genre, and this may seem like a project for a lower class and not AP English, but this project is more of a throwaway for a grade. It is due by next Monday, which is five days from now. No word count, but I expect three paragraphs at the very least. MLA format. The chrome books are in their cart, you can grab one and sign into your school account when you are ready.”

She sat down at her desk and the students started making their way towards a black moveable cart type thing.

The blonde turned towards me.  
“You’re Tony Stark, right?”

“What’s it to you?”

The guy raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. “Just making sure.” He stuck out a hand. “Clint Barton.”

Tony hesitantly shook it. “Tony Stark. Shouldn’t we... start working?”

“-Stark and Barton, do I need to separate you two?”

“Maybe,” Clint called back.

The students around them snickered and Tony felt himself slide down into his seat. 

Hill just rolled her eyes and pointed towards the chrome book cart. “Chrome books, sirs.”

“Give her a few days,” Clint whispered. “She’s been dealing with me since the eighth  
grade, I know how to maneuver around her. I’ll go get us computers.”

Clint walked over to the cart and came back with two beat-up small laptops. 

“Your password should just be your birthdate in numbers, and your login is just the first letter of your first name then your last name, all lowercase.”

“What’s the point of passwords if anyone can get into it and it’s as simple as your birthday?”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask me.”

Tony blinked. “Couldn’t you, theoretically, get into anyone’s account?”

“It happens all the time,” Clint smirked. “ I log onto my sister’s account and change her background.“

“Barton,” Hill barked. “Come join me up here.”

Clint sighed. “She starts off strict but eventually-“

“-Barton!-“

Clint hurriedly slung his backpack over his shoulder and grabbed his computer. “-See you if we have the same lunch period.”

*** 

Turns out they did. Tony surveyed a few people in the cafeteria before Clint claimed a seat beside him. 

Tony glanced at his tray and saw hardly anything on it. When Tony asked Cling claimed the food today is terrible.

Which, in all honesty, was fair.

Clint gestured towards the centermost table, which was filled with some teenagers talking considerably loud.

“That’s the quote unquote popular table. They aren’t really popular, they just like to think it. The blonde guy with short hair is Steven Rogers. Nat says he’s not that bad, but I disagree. He can’t take a joke, always polite, always proper. Always trying to do the right thing.”

Tony nodded hesitantly, debating whether to ask who “Nat” was. “Type of person to not have a dark side?”

Clint nodded. “Exactly. Why?”

Tony shrugged. “I don’t trust a guy without a dark side. Anyways, who are the rest?”

“The people next to him are Sam Wilson and James Barnes. They all play the same sports or something. Margaret, long brown hair, and Pepper, the red head, aren’t that bad, but watch out for Sharon. She’s a total bitch.”

“The blonde one?”

“Yup.”

“Lemme guess, she’s a cheerleader?”

Clint grinned. “Duh. She fits the stereotypical high school bitch, and is proud of it.”

A loud shriek of laughter came from the table behind Clint, and if Tony wouldn’t be able to see them, he would’ve though someone was in pain.

He also didn’t miss the way Clint flinched in response to the noise. 

Tony didn’t comment, guessing that they both had their own demons.


	2. Clint

Clint practically dragged Tony to gym. He ignored his friend’s (was Tony his friend yet? Did Tony consider him a friend?) protests, keeping a steady pace towards their next class.

“I want you to meet someone.”

Clint saw Tony roll his eyes, but he quieted down. Coach Janet threw uniforms at them once they signed in and ordered them to get changed.

It was nothing much, just a pair of black gym shorts and a grey shirt with the Shield’s logo on the sleeve.

They dressed in the male locker room and, thankfully, they were early. Clint was silently grateful Tony didn’t comment on him changing behind a wall.

Clint walked out and waited for Tony who stumbled out just as the madness that was senior and junior jocks came rushing through the doors and into the doors.

“So, who’d you want me to meet?”

Clint shrugged. “You’ll see her when-“

Something shifted behind him and before Clint could turn around, a voice spoke.

“Clinton.”

Clint smirked. “Hey, Nat! What’s wrong?”

The red-head huffed, stepping in front so she was facing him. 

“A sonic the hedgehog profile picture is-“

“-I’m sorry, am I in the middle of some lover’s spat?”

Clint saw Natasha turn and give Tony a once over. It was so quick most would’ve missed her assessment, but Clint was around her well enough to pick up on his sister’s spy-like habits.

“Anthony Stark, son, of billionaire Howard Stark, playboy, genius, new, and sole heir to Stark Industries, a weapons company.”

“That’s,” Tony blinked. “Mildly concerning.” Clint held in a chuckle as Tony not so subtly shifted so he was farther away from Nat.

“Is she always this scary?” Tony mumbled and Clint shook his head.

“I like to do my research before meeting people,” Natasha stated.

“How did you even know you were going to meet me?”

“Well,” She started. “You were the talk of the school last year-“

“-It was just some rumors,” Clint hastily interrupted. “We don’t get new students often so word about you spread pretty quick.”

Clint begged in his mind that Tony would take the sloppy cover-up, and thankfully he seemed to.

“Anyways, this is Natasha, my sister. I don’t think you have her for any classes, mostly because I have you in most of mine, and they deliberately have separated Nat and I in classes since the seventh grade.”

Tony frowned. “Why?”

Natasha shrugged. “Our parents wanted us to make new friends.”

‘That’s putting it very mildly,’ Clint’s mind hissed at him. ‘And sugarcoating everything thrice.’

Coach Janet’s whistle sounded, and her voice barked above the sound of everyone talking.

“Three minutes, starting now! Start running and if I see you stop or cut corners, that’s one more minute added!”

Clint groaned and Natasha grabbed his arm and pulled him from the sidelines.

***

After gym, it was the last class of the day, Peer Counseling. It was the only class Clint thinks he was going to like because it was the only class he shared with Natasha, and, now, Tony, that didn’t involve physical exercise.

The three walked together to Counselor Coulson’s room and found the rest of the kids already in there.

Clint glanced around the room, taking in the people and trying to see any potential threats.

There was a kid who looked about his age, maybe less, with dark brown curly hair. A pair of circle glasses could be seen above the book he was reading. ‘Shy, introvert,’ Clint thought. ‘and not likely a threat.’

A tall blonde in very plain looking clothing was sitting by the window. He had a sketchbook in front of him and a pencil mindlessly moving. ‘Steve Rogers’, his mind supplied. He didn’t have any classes with Steve, but he was pretty popular among the cheerleaders and his theater friends. Artist, jock, can’t-take-a-joke, anti-bully Rogers. ‘Annoying, but not a threat.’

The last was an even taller, built blonde talking to Mr.Coulson. He had a loud booming voice that reminded Clint too much of his late father. ‘Unknown, likely a boarding student, possible threat.’

Clint also observed the changes in his two companions.

Tony’s shoulders tensed and his face became void of all emotion. He stood taller, which barely added anything to his less than average height. He looked relaxed, but the way the side of his mouth twitched and how tightly his hands were clenched told otherwise.

Natasha was almost the same, but she was harder to read. Her posture and face didn’t change, but he knew her well enough to know when she was uncomfortable. Her tell was the way her hands were unnaturally straight like she was trying to make them look relaxed but, it wasn’t really working.

Clint walked into the room and took an empty seat around the circle of six chairs in the middle. Tony sat beside him but Natasha stalked around to the back wall.

Clint started up a conversation, well, it was more of him just talking and Tony commenting here and there, to lighten the mood.

That was, until, Mr.Coulson cleared his throat and the room quieted.

“Please take a seat in the circle, and then we can begin.”

Rogers nodded and plopped into the seat opposite of Clint, and the introvert kid shuffled over.

The buff guy asked introvert kid something, and he gestured towards the seats and they both sat down.

“Miss Romanoff?” Coulson questioned.

Nat emerged from the shadows right behind Rogers, and Clint chuckled as the guy practically jumped out of his seat and into a fighting stance.

Nat sat next to me, and Clint could practically feel the tension form.

“How about we say our names and something about ourselves, I’ll go first,” Mr.Coulson started. “My name is Phil Coulson and I was raised in Ohio. Mr.Banner?”

The introvert kid looked up and pushed his glasses farther up onto his face. “I, um, my name- name is Bruce Banner, people call me Bruce, and I, like...science?”

“What type?” Tony questioned.

“Chemistry, but mostly physics.”

“How about astrophysics? And fusion energy?”

Clint watched the exchange, noticing how Tony seemed to be in his element and Bruce was sitting a little straighter.

“Hasn’t that been done already? As like, science project or something by Howard Stark’s Son? Biggest breakthrough I’ve read about, honestly. Palladium as a core, brilliant.”

Tony nodded. “Finally, someone in this school that speaks English.”

“Boys, can we save the talk for later?” Coulson asked, but Clint could see him smiling. “I’m pretty sure you lost us at astrophysics.”

“Not our fault,” Tony shot back. “Anyways, I’m Tony Stark, I’m pretty sure you’ve heard of me, household name kinda thing, and I am a certified genius with an IQ of 256. I should be in college right now, but unfortunately, my mom thinks that social skills are important.”

Bruce’s eyes were wide and he looked shocked, while the rest simply nodded.

“Thor Odinson, and I from Norway.”

The group dove into a discussion on that until Coulson got them back on track.

Clint introduced himself and said he did archery.

Nat did the same but mentioned how she spoke seven languages. 

Rogers was the last one, and he just said he played football, sketchbook abandoned on the other side of the room.

Once they finished, they just started talking.

Coulson sat at his desk, and let them talk about anything they wanted (except the drive-through daiquiris and margaritas you can get in Louisiana), and before Clint knew it, it was time to leave.

“The next class will be a little more structured, but I thought it was good for the lot of you too get to know each other before we dive into the actual counseling part. Dismissed, and have a great day!”

Clint has never seen anyone leave the classroom as fast as Rogers did, and was surprised to find that Bruce and Thor hung back until Tony, himself, and Nat could catch up.

“So, you’re uh, Tony Stark?”

Tony grinned at Bruce and flashed a peace sign. “Yup, clean energy extraordinaire, but don’t look so star struck, I mean, I know I’m beautiful but you are Bruce Banner. Your paper on gamma radiation was amazing, by the way.”

“Wait,” Clint interrupted. “You have research that is published?”

“How do you think I was let into the school?” Bruce muttered. 

Thor clapped him on the back and looked at the four of them. “I may not have understood a word all of you said, so can we change the topic? Friend Clint, you said you did archery! Is that where you are going now?”

Clint shook his head. “I do love my bow, but drama takes the cake on this one. In fact,” he glanced at his watch. “Mrs.Mary will be mad at me if I’m late, so I better get going.”

Clint waves to all of them and speeds down the hall towards the auditorium.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Natasha 
> 
> A little bit a science bros here, and I’m really starting to Stan Clint and Tony brother relationship.
> 
> Also, I do, for once, have a plan for this. It’s mostly personal character arcs set in a high school environment.
> 
> Let me know if you have any comments or ship suggestions!


	3. Natasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:
> 
> Child Abuse   
Small suggestion of self harm   
Suggested mental health issues

_ Natasha fell against the cold floor. It was a relief to just stop moving. _

_ “Up you good for nothing girl! Do it again.” _

_ Natasha felt like crying, but she quickly blinked away the tears. _

_ They would only get her into more trouble. _

_ “But Madame-“ _

_ “-No buts, Romanova! Up!” _

_ Natasha cringed but stood in shaky legs. She got into position and- _

A loud symbol crash awoke her from her dream.

She gripped the sleeves of her jacket, trying to remember where in the hell she was.

The memories came in like a flood.

The band teacher handing out new music, exclaiming that they would be helping the theater club do their production of “Once Upon A Mattress”.

Band practice- after two hours of her sight reading music, playing scales over and over and over again- had ended, and she left for the auditorium where Clint would be.

She took a shaky breath and felt a drop of water land on her wrist.

Why was it raini- Oh... it was tears.

Natasha wiped them away. There wasn’t any time for emotion.

Emotion made her weak.

She vaguely recognized Clint jogging up the aisle and towards her.

“Heya Nat! Whatcha doing? Drama ended ten minutes ago.”

Natasha tried her best to give him her best unimpressed look. “I was waiting on your ass.”

“Fair. Anyways let’s go. Phil will be waiting.”

Oh yeah, their counselor and newest foster parent.

She wondered how long this arrangement would last. If this one was like the others, then a week to two months, give or take.

But Phil was good to them. He bought Clint a bow and a target for him to practice on in his back yard. He got her books in Russian print because even after years in America English still confused her.

And he doesn’t hold food from them or make them work for it by scrubbing the house from top to bottom. He doesn’t hit them. He just expects Clint and Nat to be honest and do their homework...At least now. Those facts were liable to change in the future.

As Clint and Nat walked out, she couldn’t help but allow herself to hope that maybe, Phil would be different.

***

The car ride was silent, or rather, Natasha was.

Clint and Phil made small talk.

Natasha didn’t like to talk much. She would rather watch and observe.

Learn their habits. Learn their strengths and weak-

Natasha dug her nails into her palm, trying to cause as much pain as possible- as quiet as possible- to stop the thoughts.

‘You aren’t there, anymore, she isn’t here to make you think that. She isn’t here.’

‘But she can find you’ another voice whispered. ‘She vowed to, whenever she would be let go from whatever prison she was in.’

The voices. She hated those voices with a burning passion that some could mistake for anger.

She would never admit it, though. Never admit to herself or to anyone else that they bothered her.

That was a weakness.

Something Phil or Clint or anyone else could use against her.

So she observed.

Old habits die hard, she guessed. 

***

“I didn’t have time to get something for dinner but there is pizza in the fridge. That okay, Nat?”

The question caught her by surprise but she tried to not let it show. “Yes sir.”

“Got any homework?”

“I um some math but that’s not due until Wednesday... A book report due a week from now.”

Phil nodded. Natasha watched as he walked over and started heating up pizza in the microwave. “Better get the math done tonight so it doesn’t pile up with tomorrow’s homework.”

“Yes, sir.”

After a few moments of silence the machine beeped and Phil set the plate down on the counter and distributed the pizza between two plates.

“May I um take it to my room, sir?” She quietly asked.

“Sure. Clint I guess it’s-“

The blonde in question jumped at the sound of his name. “Oh, I’m just gonna take it to my room too, if that’s okay.”

Natasha grabbed her plate and scrambled out of the room, trying to ignore the brief flash of hurt on her foster father’s face.

***

She couldn’t listen to classical pieces without thinking of... of her, but whenever she played music on her own, it didn’t have the same affect.

So she lost herself in the melody.

The soft notes from her flute were delicate and graceful like a butterfly’s wing. They were as light as a hummingbird, flinging itself at each beautiful flower.

She blocked out thoughts of her past homes. Of the abuse and torture and misery she endured and instead thought of her mother.

The way the sunlight caught her hair and the way her laugh could lift everyone’s spirits up.

The way how her singing as she played the piano lulled her younger self to sleep.

Of the few good memories she retained from the three years spent with her biological parents.

She didn’t notice Clint entering her room. She didn’t notice him leaving, either.

But she did notice the way his math homework sheet with all of the answers and work attached somehow appeared next to her blank one. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think and thank you for reading!


	4. Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning:
> 
> Homophobia (Beginning)

“How was your day, son?”

Steve mentally groaned. He lived his dad, dearly, but practice was hell today and all he wanted to do was sleep. “Pretty good, Dad.”

“How’s your wrist? Doing well after the sprain?”

“Hurts a little but nothing I can’t take. Pitches are a little slow, but Coach Fury says I’ll be back in it in no time.”

His dad nodded and offered a smile before parking in their driveway.

Steve got out and stepped inside.

Before he could make it five feet, his mom practically shoved him back outside.

“Cleats off, dear. Food is on the table when you are ready and go take a shower. You smell like a goat.”

Steve rolled his eyes- luckily Mama didn’t see -and did as he was told. He managed to run through the shower in record time and his food was still hit whenever he got to it.

He took the time to observe the peacefulness of his home. He knew a lot of kids didn’t have what he had- stability, loving parents, food, etc- and was grateful for it.

They, as a family, said grace and Steve happily dug into the food.

Conversation went on as normal until...

“Joseph, I want to cut my hair.”

Steve inwardly winced. He was witness to all of the times his Dad just came up to his room and ranted. He was witness to the hour to an hour and a half long, fire-and-brimstone sermons on this type of stuff. Steve stopped chewing, trying to see where this would go.

“Why?”

Steve watched his Mom set down her fork and put her hands in her lap. He didn’t miss the way they somewhat shook.

“It gets in the way. It would just be more convenient. Plus you always complain about the hair getting everywhere so I just thought-“

“-What would the people at church say?”

Sarah’s eyes hardened. “I think they wouldn’t mind.”

“No-“

“-Why-“

“-Because I won’t have you looking like a God damn queer, Sarah! End of discussion.”

Steve gripped his fork so tight he was sure it would shatter.

He took a calming breath and hurriedly tried to finish his food. “May I be excused?”

Sarah frowned. “Are you sure you’ve eaten enough?”

“Yes ma’am, I’m sure.”

Joseph waved his hand. “You are excused. Go do your homework and get some sleep. You’ll need the energy for tomorrow.”

Steve muttered a quick “Yes, sir” before making his way out of the room.

That was the one thing Steve couldn’t stand about his life. The way his mom could ask to do the simplest, most harmless task, and Joseph would shut her down faster than anything else on the planet.

And she would.. accept it! Without question!

At first, Steve thought this was somewhat normal behavior between a husband and a wife. Then the best thing that had ever happened to him well, happened.

Steve met Buck and Peg. He spent most of his weekends at the Barnes household, and learned of what a relationship should be from observing.

It should be built on love and trust in both partners, not fear on one end and control on the other.

And Peggy was quite possibly the strongest woman Steve has ever met, besides his Mama of course.

Then Bucky came out and Steve was forbidden to step foot within five miles of the guy. His father made him switch schools and everything, as if Bucky was the only openly gay person on the Earth.

He hasn’t seen him since.

Steve quietly closed the door and glanced at his backpack. He pulled out a science textbook and began reading, making notes along the way. He tried to block out the thoughts but after an hours worth of homwork he found that between that and baseball he couldn’t focus.

Steve sighed and turned off his lamp.

Tomorrow would be a long day.

***

Steve pushed open the door to his favorite cafe; ‘Mary’s.’

It was locally owned and operated and they were open from 5:30 in the morning. So Steve could grab a coffee and go for a jog virtually every day.

It was his ritual. It wasn’t much, but it was the one time he didn’t have to do anything for anyone. He was buying the coffee because he liked it and not because he was trying to please his parents or friends.

But when he surveyed the room, he wasn’t alone.

“Bruce?”

The teen in question jerked backwards as just the sound of his name caused him physical pain.

“H-Hi Steve.”

“What are you doing?”

“homework?”

Steve frowned. “At 5:30?”

Bruce glared at Steve.

Steve walked around and stood behind him. It was the math homework that was assigned yesterday.

“That’s not due for another two days.”

“I know.”

Steve inwardly winced. He could hear the irritation in his classmate’s voice.

And Bruce looked a little ticked off.

As well as... pale. And shakey. And to little with very prominent dark circles under his eyes.

As Bucky would say, his maternal instincts kicked in full force.

“When was the last time you had a meal?”

That seemed to catch him off guard. “Oh I um-“

“-and a decent nights sleep?” Steve questioned.

“It’s not really your business-“

Steve rolled his eyes. “-If you aren’t healthy then it is my business as a friend. Come on. Mama hasn’t finished cooking yet. She wouldn’t mind having another guest.”

“I wouldn’t want to, um, intrude.”

“Nonsense, she loves my friends. Plus we don’t get visitors that aren’t adults often after

Steve didn’t know if the kid took that as a guilt trip or didn’t see a way out because the next thing he knew Bruce was slowly putting his beat up laptop in its bag and downing the rest of his coffee.

They walked in silence as Steve lead him back the ten or so blocks to his house.

***

As Steve predicted, his mom started fussing over Bruce as soon as they stepped through the door.

“Oh, dear, you look starved! Here, sit. I have pancakes on the stove and...”

Steve chuckled at the bewildered look on Bruce’s face as he was forced to sit at the table with a plate of three pancakes stacked high in front of him.

“Just go with it,” Steve whispered. “Also, you don’t have to eat it all, she’s just protective.”

***

Sarah dropped them off in front of the school relatively early considering she has a shift at the hospital.

“Our first class is the peer counseling right?”

Bruce nodded. “Yeah, I think. I may just wait outside until Mr.Coulson gets here.”

“I’ll join you.”

Steve cringed at the genuinely confused look on Bruce’s face.

“What? Why? No offense, but don’t you have your other friends?”

Steve shrugged. “I guess but most of them are jerks. I only hang out around them because my Dad approves I guess. I know Barton and Stark don’t like me, probably because of who I hang around with and I know I can act like a jerk sometimes but, well, I’m hoping to leave that behind I guess.”

Bruce nodded. “I can understand that. I’m guessing you’ve heard the rumors about me? No one wants to be friends with someone like that. For Barton, I think you are right. He trusts rumors over truth. As for Stark, well, Barton got to him first. Plus I think he just wants to fit in so he’s using the first person to accept him.”

“Really? That’s what you think?”

“Stark has had a lot of TV and magazine stories about him and his family, most not in A positive light. I’m guessing that once everyone started treating him like something he wasn’t due to the media, he adopted that persona. We try to live up to the expectations that are set before us because we want to be accepted. That’s just a physiological need. If those expectations are very, very low, then we are still going try to live up to them.”

Steve whistled. “That’s pretty wise.”

Bruce offered a small smile. “Meh, books on this type of stuff was the only thing available in the library at my old school.”

Steve laughed and for once, since Bucky, he thought he might have an actual friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once introduction chapters are out of the way, that is when the bonding and drama starts to happen. 
> 
> So what do you think? Any particular ships or scenes you guys want?
> 
> ALSO, DISCLAIMER:  
Not all Christian churches/preachers are homophobic! I, personally, am bi and catholic, so please don’t take Joseph seriously. He’s an ass. I mostly did this to open more paths up in the future for Steve’s personally life.
> 
> Kudos and Comments are very much appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this is a self indulgent fic, and may be slow to update because I will only write when it’s fun to me. I hope you understand.
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! As if constructive criticism!


End file.
